


Just a cup of tea

by your_dragon_just_shot_at_me



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24465193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me/pseuds/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me
Summary: In the quiet hours of the night during a supply run, Hera's interrupted while making a cup of tea by her new crewmate's nightmare.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Just a cup of tea

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: I'm sure there will be consistency errors between this and canon, particularly with the book New Dawn which I have not read (but plan to) but I couldn't just NOT write something cute and fluffy (and angsty and all comforting) after reading all the other fluffy fics of these two lately!

Long hours at the helm watching the blur of stars while they sailed silently in hyperspace always made her drowsy. Quite the opposite of the adrenaline pumping action she’d dreamed about as a child when she’d sneak out to stargaze. Hera certainly wasn’t complaining, though. Freight runs of medical supplies and rations to Outer Rim planets didn’t weigh on her morals like being a fighter pilot. But some days she just traded one weight for the other. 

At least, lately, she wasn’t alone. 

Actually, she wasn’t ever truly alone, not with Chopper. But now she had him too. Kanan Jarrus. Most days it didn’t seem like she’d really taken on a crew member. He hid away in his bunk or in the cargo hold, meditating, target practice with his blaster or quietly checking off to-do items on her list for the Ghost, only coming onto the bridge when necessary, skipping entire meals until she prompted him to eat. Once she threatened to tie him to a chair on the bridge to make sure he ate an entire ration bar. That threat didn’t pan out. Kanan countered with something highly inappropriate and she vowed to let him starve from then on.

Nights like this, runs that took ungodly amounts of hours still felt just as lonely as before he came aboard. 

Pushing thoughts of loneliness aside, Hera tipped a tiny tin box. After their last mission ended up with her in a med bay for three days, all of which she spent with only Chopper for company, Kanan Jarrus showed up with the box and... a meiloorun fruit. That meiloorun didn’t make it out of the med bay. 

She opened the tin, which released a medley of hearty spice that filled the common room. Hera tried to remember the last time she’d had tea. Real tea. Not a caf or the reconstituted bantha fodder considered caf she could usually afford. This tea smelled like nothing she’d had on Ryloth. Kanan’s guilt for her injury led him to taking the Phantom, without her knowledge, so he could take some odd jobs on the closest planet just to pay for the tea and fruit. He was lucky not to require any days in the med bay himself for stealing her shuttle. 

She’d prefer her tea strong, but realistically she didn’t know when she’d get another tin of tea. Steeping a smaller amount longer would be almost as good. 

“How’s it going, Chop?” She remembered to ask through the comms and not wake Kanan by yelling through the corridors again. At first his whirs and beeps were normal, relaxed. There was nothing to report, really. She only asked to pass the time while she waited for water to boil. Her version of small talk with the astromech. But then midway through him repeating back her normal checklist he became frantic. Beeping and clacking so fast she could hardly keep up. “What do you mean the stabilizers are draining power...Chop? What did you do to my ship?” Stirring her tea fervently, she kept cursing the little astromech when the deck began to rumble. She’d hoped he was just being dramatic. Whoever had designed droids to have such wild personalities should be thrown out the airlock.   
“Chop? Answer me! What is going,” Hera whipped the spoon from the tea, a swirl of golden brown liquid flowed up with it. “Did you do something to the grav plating?” Immediately she knew he hadn’t. The spoon didn’t float like the tea. Also, she’d remained firmly planted on the floor. Suddenly, the tea tin rattled on the shelf, threatening to open. She stuffed it in the drawer and cursed at Chopper one more time. 

A piercing shout echoed through the Ghost. “Master!” 

_Kanan!_

Hera went running, tea and all, down the hall to the living quarters. 

It was easy to forget he was a Jedi. Kanan Jarrus rarely carried his lightsaber, or if he did he kept it concealed, preferring a blaster. She’d maybe seen him use the Force a few times, but most of those times she could rationalize it away. A coincidence that a crate fell at just the perfect time to protect her from Trooper blasts. And to her knowledge, he hadn’t let on to anyone else that he’d was a Jedi.

Or rather, former Jedi. 

Thumbing the pad to open his quarters, Hera felt her lekku lift away from her back. 

“Kanan!” 

His few possessions crashed around the room. Kanan hung suspended a few inches off the mattress, violently thrashing about. More tea flowed upwards, hovering in the air, while the cup dropped from her hands. 

Hera rushed to him, ducking a box that careened across the room and avoiding his flailing. “Kanan! Wake up!” 

Chopper continued to beep at her, now fully in hysterics. 

“Master!” He shouted one last time. Kanan’s eyes shot open. Of his possessions, a round metal handle, which had been floating near the floor, shot towards his hand. Hera stumbled back from his bed as all the floating objects crashed to the floor. Kanan, still living his dream, drove Hera back out the door at the tip of his blue blade. 

“Kanan Jarrus! Karabast! Wake up!” 

He gasped, sucking in huge gulping breaths. His eyes wild. 

“Hera?” Kanan rasped. The lightsaber deactivated, falling limply from his hand. “Hera, I’m…” 

Hera’s own heart pounded in her chest. 

Something had struck Kanan’s head during his nightmare, hard enough to make it bleed. And he was shaking. 

Chopper’s calmer whirs and beeps and the Ghost cruising smoothly again told her they hadn’t dropped out of hyperspace and the ship’s systems were stabilizing.

The thick glob oozing down his head changed, turning from a brighter red to deep crimson before her eyes. Med kit. She needed the med kit.

* * *

Hera dashed off. 

And he couldn’t blame her. 

“Hera!” He tried to call out to her. He needed to apologize. He’d never meant to scare her. Especially in the way he had. He didn’t even understand how his lightsaber got out of the drawer under his bed. 

Kanan tried to follow. The Ghost twisted under his feet, crashing him into the wall when he tried to get out the door. 

“Hera! Please.” He tried to shout but his voice resisted, only coming out in a hoarse whisper. 

If he closed one eye, the hallway twisted and turned less, he could stumble his way down but that only brought him to the ladder. 

His hand hit the closest rung, and he swore he heard a blaster shot sending him back to the wall again, searching for his lightsaber. 

_No!_ This wasn’t then. He was an adult now. 

Another creak of metal sent him ducking to the corner. 

“Hera?” He needed to see her. To know that she was here with him now. That he wasn’t still running. Kanan searched around to confirm he wasn’t being pursued. No Clone Troopers.

The plan, if he could even call it that, never involved him being on the Ghost today of all days. They weren’t even supposed to have a job and then this freight pickup came in, medical supplies. Hera being Hera couldn’t say no. And he couldn’t just let her go unaccompanied to a Hutt controlled world. She claimed not to need the help, and while she probably didn’t need it, he felt better being with her. He could keep her safe. 

Except from himself. 

And that was all he wanted. Every fiber of his being needed to keep her safe just so he could see her smile that glorious, enchanting smile one more time. Like when he’d given her the meiloorun fruit in the med bay. 

But how could he? He was a failure at everything. At being a Jedi. At being a friend. He could never be more than a friend if he couldn’t keep her safe from himself. 

Every rung a blaster shot past him or a Clone Trooper shouting orders to find him. _Kill him!_ Kanan threw himself down the next hallway. Staggering. The wall the only thing keeping him upright. 

“Hera? Please. I’m so sorry.” 

Hands gripped his arm. “Kanan Jarrus, sit down now!” That sharp tone. It could almost have been Master Depa. He could still hear her whenever he rushed through an exercise. He’d visited the infirmary at the Temple many times with burns. “Focus, Kanan. Look at me.” Focus? Sharp pain lanced him. His vision, what little he had, became nothing more than flashes of green. 

By the Force, he couldn’t tell if the nightmare still had it in its grip. 

But if it wasn’t a dream…and if he hurt Hera….

Questions plagued him as of late. Should he have agreed to stay on and join her ‘crew’? All he was doing was getting close to her and someone would get hurt. Her or him. 

One of her lekku brushed his arm.

Kanan stretched his hand up, needing to know. Was that really her? Was this still a dream?

The hard line of her jaw, her soft warm skin.

“I should have checked the date.” Her voice was soft. Nothing like just moments ago when he thought, like his former Master called to him. “I’m so sorry, Kanan.” A slight quiver in her voice shook him.

She worked gently, dabbing at his head. The sharp smell of iron filled the room. 

She coalesced before him. 

She should have been furious with him. He’d pulled his lightsaber on her. It was inexcusable. He’d chuck it out the airlock, along with himself, if it would keep her safe. 

Instead, her eyes were wide. She kept tilting her head to each side looking deep into his eyes.

She really was right there. But if he blinked, would she disappear? 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated like a mantra. 

“It’s ok, love.” She wrapped him in her arms. Whispering in his ear. “It’s ok. It’s over.” 

Kanan took a shuddering breath. It was never really over. They just had a new enemy. 

* * *

Theoretically, her ruddy astromech had the ship under control again. And if they kept pace, they could get to the rendezvous without delay. Searching every cabinet and drawer for the med kit, she wondered if there was a reason Kanan’s nightmares had returned. He’d had plenty when he first came aboard, but over the months they became less and less frequent. None of those compared to tonight.

The date? What was the date? Her heart stopped when she looked on her comm display attached to her armband. She was an idiot. A kriffing idiot. 

And after he’d mentioned staying on that dank moon just for the night. Why didn’t she check the date? She never would have taken the job if she’d checked the date.

The galaxy saw the executions. Clone Troopers descending on Knights, Masters and even Padawan children, marked for being traitors. Some broadcast live as a warning to any Jedi that got away. Until she met Kanan she’d believed, like the rest of the galaxy, that all Jedi were dead. After Kanan joined her crew, another execution happened. They sat in the common area with the blue hologram of a man Kanan’s age, possibly a man Kanan knew and grew up with, trained with, as he lost his life for all the galaxy to see. Kanan said nothing. The holo disconnected and he walked away before Hera had the chance to say anything.

Kanan appeared in the doorway, clinging to the wall to keep him upright. Stubborn man!

His bleeding had only grown worse, too. 

Ghosts haunting him, Kanan flinched away from her grip until she snapped at him to focus and dragged him to the bench. 

The med kit’s supplied were running low. She’d be using the last of her gauze and could only hope he didn’t get an infection because the only disinfectant she had was wildly out of date. 

Her mind stopped at the first brush of his fingertips along her jaw, drifting up to her cheek. Caressing it with a featherlight touch that sent shivers down her spine. She should pull away. Keep their arrangement far more professional. But the coolness of his sweat soaked skin and his eyes… 

He needed her. Someone to ground him to here and now and not that place, that dream, that kept trying to suck him back in. “You’re here, right?” His voice rasped.

His living nightmare receded back to the shadows as the apologies started. They poured out of Kanan with such disgust at himself that all she could do to quell them was to pull him into her. Circle him in warmth and comfort.

“Kanan?” She felt him shift, become more aware of the moment. She heaved a sigh. It really was so easy to forget who he was. 

His arms twined through hers, latching around her waist with his face buried in her shoulder. 

She could just make out, “Stay?”

One gentle tug and she’d fall into his lap. Hera’s entire world would change if that happened. She’d been bent at an awkward angle to clean the wound, to hug him, and now her back ached, her legs ached, but she held him until she couldn’t stand any longer. 

Coaxing her way out of his arms, as tortuous as it was, Hera moved to sit next to him on the bench at the holotable. 

Their moment was over, Kanan came back to himself, “What? That was it? No…?” 

“No, what?” He knew her feelings on his typical women who flocked to him in the brothels and cantinas when they were out looking for jobs or contacts. The women he was known to spend the night with. The ones who fell over themselves at his cheesy flirtatious banter.

“Well, what if I can’t sleep again?” 

“Oh, if you can’t sleep, you can figure something out.” 

Why did she bother? If he wanted to keep up that wall between them, fine! “I have plenty to do.” She didn’t. Besides checking that Chopper was right, and the Ghost was operating normally again, she’d be watching stars the rest of the night. 

Hera stood quickly to get out of range of Kanan’s attacks when he grabbed her hand again. Cold sweat gone. His hands were warm and rough, cupping hers so tenderly she could slip out if she wanted. His lips brushed her bare knuckles. Barely a kiss, yet it left its mark. That spot along her knuckle burning hot, then shot up her arm to constrict her entire chest. 

All sense of his joking gone. Kanan couldn’t even keep his eyes on hers. 

Then just as quickly, he released her hand. 

“I won’t keep you.” Exhaustion made him collapse into the bench. 

Her heart hammered violently in chest. Blood rushing through her so fast she felt lightheaded. Hera choked on the words, “I’ll be on the bridge.”

He nodded faintly at her. An undeniable tearing occurred deep in her soul. Kanan or duty? Sometimes, like now, duty was just tending to her ship. If Chop did his job, there’d be little for her to do. 

“You...could make some tea. Sit with me?” 

“Who needs sleep, anyways?” He quipped. He must have closed his eyes. When she looked back, he was rubbing away more ghost images. “You’ll let me on the bridge? With tea?” 

“Only if you make me some.” The barest hint of a smile crossed her lips, “And we’ll have to send Chop away.” It was out of her mouth before she could catch it. She knew he would get the wrong idea, make some snide innuendo. 

“Really? You know that means you’ll be alone with me.” 

Relieved he didn’t make any crude allusions, she retorted, “I’ll bring my blaster. Just to be safe.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I only planned this one shot but who knows! My love for these two beautiful dorks might lead to something more. But now, back to my regularly scheduled long term fic in a completely different fandom. 
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! <3


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